


Tough on You 1

by helens78, Telesilla



Category: Establishment RPF
Genre: BDSM, Consent Play, Kink, M/M, Masochism, Sadism, The Establishment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-11
Updated: 2006-09-11
Packaged: 2017-10-05 18:35:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helens78/pseuds/helens78, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telesilla/pseuds/Telesilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Sean asks a few different people what they think of rape fantasies from the top's perspective, a good friend selflessly offers to do a couple of scenes with him -- one with him topping, one with her topping.  He gets to go first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tough on You 1

**Author's Note:**

> As the tag and the summary say, this involves some pretty heavy consent play.

This happens every time Sean goes into a scene where he's flirting with violent headspace. There's a sense of nervousness, a flutter at the bottom of his stomach. Before London, that flutter was a natural part of any scene that skirts the edges of Sean's comfort zone. And after London, he's wondered whether it's a warning sign, something that means he should come to a full stop.

This is different. This feels good. Sean's pacing, getting a little excess energy out of his system, but he's not trembling or fighting to keep his thoughts from racing. He's waiting in the Est hotel lobby, dressed in a white t-shirt, jeans, a black leather jacket, and he has a knapsack slung over one shoulder. The room's set up; it's just a matter of waiting for Carrie-Anne to show.

Checking her hair one more time, Carrie-Anne finally gets out of the car and tells the driver she'll call when ready to return to her own hotel. Tucking the compact back into her purse, she moves into the lobby with the confident stride of a successful business woman, her chosen role for this.

As she walks up to Sean she compares his casual clothes with her own attire -- a long skirted black suit with a burgundy silk blouse, stockings and garters instead of pantyhose, and a pair of sleek black high heeled pumps. Everything about Sean says "tough guy" and everything about herself says "money"; it's a perfect setup.

Sean notices the look she gives him, notices the way her eyes drop away from him as soon as she's walked by. He slides his tongue out over his lips and follows her to the elevator, digging one hand into a pocket as he stands behind her. He isn't subtle as he checks her out from behind. She looks damn good; the slim skirt she's wearing traces the curves of her hips in a way that's making Sean's mouth water. He wonders what she's got on under that suit, and what the fabric's going to sound like when he tears it apart.

Carrie-Anne keeps the proper "two strangers in an elevator" distance, although her knowledge of what's coming has her pulse already racing. When she reaches her floor and Sean steps out behind her, she subtly speeds up as he follows her down the hall. She goes so far as to cast a slightly worried look over her shoulder, as the role of potential victim settles over her more completely.

_Spatula,_ she finds herself thinking as she fumbles in her purse for the key card, deliberately taking a while to pull it out so that Sean can catch up. _All I have to say is spatula; this isn't real._

"You seem to be having some trouble there," Sean murmurs, coming up behind Carrie-Anne and putting his hand up on the doorframe beside her. "Can I help you with that?"

The look Carrie-Anne gives Sean informs him wordlessly that she is very much out of his league and her voice is frosty as she replies. "No, thank you. I think I can handle a simple key card." She pauses, clearly expecting him to move off before she opens the door.

"Wasn't trying to say you couldn't," Sean snorts, shaking his head. He takes a couple of small, obliging steps backwards, letting his hand drop from the doorframe. He doesn't, though, move off down the hallway. His eyes drill into the back of her neck, and he slides a hand back into his pocket -- this time the pocket of his jacket, where his hand curls around a switchblade.

Squaring her shoulders, Carrie-Anne pretends to ignore him as she finally gets her door open. She moves fairly quickly to get inside, after all Sean really should have to do a little work here.

Sean springs forward, then, and catches her around the waist with his arm. It jerks her back, and the door starts to swing shut, but that doesn't matter; the keycard is still in the lock. Sean pulls out the switchblade and waits until it's in her line of sight before flipping it open. "I think you'd like to invite me in," he murmurs. He starts moving the blade back, until it's at the side of her neck, just under her jawline. "For a drink, maybe. Yeah?"

Even though she's expecting something like this, Carrie-Anne has to remember not so shriek too loudly, although given that this is an Est hotel, screaming isn't going to bring anyone running. "This is insane," she hisses after her initial yelp. "You'll never get away with it!"

"Open the door," Sean whispers. He is radiating calm, quiet certainty. "You don't have the luxury of worrying about whether I'm going to get away with it. What you need to be thinking about is opening up that door and letting me in. You do that for me, and this doesn't need to get difficult." The blade shifts a bit in his hand, and presses in just a little harder against her skin. "Or ugly."

"OK OK," Carrie-Anne says placatingly, her voice trembling a little. _God this is so fucking hot...._ She rekeys the door and pushes it open, a little amused that the part of her that isn't lost in either nerves or how hot this all is, has already noticed three different opportunities to take him down. "I still think you're making a huge mistake here."

Sean slides the knife away from her throat and puts it away, then twists his fingers up in her hair, tugging hard as he starts shoving her into the room. "I don't give a fuck _what_ you think," he growls. "It's not your mind I'm after at the moment."

The minute the knife is out of play, Carrie-Anne shoves back with an elbow, only remembering just in time to pull the blow a bit. Sean makes a huffing noise and lets go of her hair when her elbow connects with his stomach and then she's stumbling into the room, moving for the phone as quickly as she can.

"_Bitch_," Sean spits out, and there's no second-guessing, no wondering about whether it's all right to call his good friend a bitch or not. It's just the role, and the need to make sure she doesn't get to that fucking phone.

He slams into the room after her, running to catch up. Her hand's just connected with the receiver when he tackles her to the floor, landing on top of her with a heavy thud.

"Get the fuck off me," Carrie-Anne yells, her hands scrabbling for purchase on his leather jacket. She can't get a hold of him and although the temptation to knee him in the balls is strong she sternly reminds herself that the object of this is to get laid. She reaches up and grabs a handful of his hair and yanks hard, twisting her hips for leverage at the same time.

Sean outweighs her by a good bit, and could probably keep her pinned down if he wanted to; he thinks the fight will do them both some good, though, so he curses at the grip she's got on his hair and lets her roll him off her, shoving him to the side.

The minute he rolls over, Carrie-Anne reaches out and slaps him hard in the face, twisting to get away as she does. She has a clear shot to the door here and she's curious to see if he can stop her.

Maybe he could or maybe he couldn't but the point becomes moot when, as she gets to her feet, the thin heel of her pump slips on the carpet and she goes down, sprawled on her stomach and one knee.

Sean comes up behind her, getting his arm around her throat, squeezing hard but mostly for show. His other hand slides up the side of her leg, gliding up silk and pushing her skirt up until he touches the lace of her garter. "Slut," he growls at her, and he bites at the side of her throat. "Trying to look respectable out there, when you're dressed like a whore underneath? Typical."

"I can wear what I want," Carrie-Anne gasps out. "Just because I like looking good doesn't mean I'm asking for sex...." She tries lashing out with her foot but the angle is wrong and one shoe falls off leaving her foot sliding along his body.

"You can wear what you want, yeah," Sean agrees. He gets his hand into her hair again and shoves her down on the carpet, making sure she lands on her cheek. He plants his hand between her shoulderblades, and reaches under her jacket for the zipper of her skirt. "And if what you wear, and the way you walk, and the way you give that little ice queen shake of your head to blokes who are watching you, if all of that together makes someone decide he's got to have you, well then." The zipper gives, and Sean starts tugging it down a fraction of an inch at a time. "I suppose that's not my fault, really, is it."

"It's completely your fault, you asshole," she replies, squirming and trying to get away from him. "But if you'll stop and leave now I won't press charges." It's hard being this angry and cold when all she wants to do is spread her legs and let him fuck her good and hard, but no ... it'll be better the longer she can hang on to the angry victim role.

"I don't believe you." Sean gets to the end of the zipper and growls a bit in frustration. "I don't trust you." He yanks hard, and the fabric rips; he keeps most of his weight on that hand between her shoulderblades as he tears a line down the back of her skirt. "And you sure as fuck shouldn't trust me."

"No really," she says, sounding as desperate as she can. "I swear ... if you walk away, you walk away." She rears up against his hand but with the weight of most of his body bearing down on her, she's not going anywhere.

"Tell me why I'd do that," Sean murmurs. He gives one last angry yank, and her skirt rips apart, revealing the lace garters of her stockings, the burgundy silk of her underwear and, God, there's black lace everywhere, and Sean can feel the _need_ for her racing up his spine. He's here to scare her, and to share a fantasy with her, and that's still in the back of his mind, but right now what she wants doesn't matter at all. "I'm not going anywhere until I've gotten what I want from you," he growls, and he grabs the material of her jacket in both hands and wrenches her over onto her back.

Sean looks furious and hungry and Carrie-Anne can feel that hunger clawing at her, until she really is scared. It's so obvious that it doesn't matter what she wants -- she could give in and beg, but if he didn't want what she was begging for, it wouldn't matter -- and that knowledge is almost more terrifying than it is arousing.

_Almost being the key word there._ "Please," she finally says, letting her fear color her words. "Please don't do this."

"I like," Sean whispers, "hearing you beg." He stretches his body out on top of hers, all his motions slow and deliberate now that the fight's wearing out of her. He has both of her arms pinned down, and he drags her wrists up above her head so he can cross one over the other and keep both of them pinned down with one hand. "I like feeling you struggle." He draws his switchblade out of his pocket again and slides the tip of it under the top button of her blouse. "I like watching you squirm." And he cuts the thread holding that button on, sending the button skittering across the floor.

Bringing her leg up to try to kick him only succeeds in moving her closer to him and Carrie-Anne looks away from him as she feels his erection though his jeans. She goes limp, hoping he's fooled into thinking that the fight has gone out of her.

Suspicious but willing to take a risk, Sean pulls back and straddles Carrie-Anne's hips. He tugs his jacket off, tossing it aside, and pulls his t-shirt over his head. Getting his skin against hers seems like a damn good idea right now, and he reaches down to her shirt, making fists in soft burgundy silk and yanking hard enough to send the rest of her buttons flying.

"Damn you," Carrie-Anne mutters, still looking away from him. It's actually quite hard to stay still; at least when she's fighting him off, she can resist the urge to shove her hips up against him.

"Why don't you try a little harder to be convincing?" Sean grins down at her. He crawls down her legs, giving himself enough space to slide a hand between them and press his fingers against the silk of her underwear. The heel of his hand grinds down against her clit, and he runs his other hand up her body, reaching up to cup her breast in his hand.

Sure of her timing and a little worried that if she doesn't do anything now she might just give in, Carrie-Anne reaches out for him, her nails digging into his arms hard. "Fucking bastard," she growls, kicking him in the lower back with the heel of her shoe. _Come just a little closer and I'll bite a chunk out of your shoulder..._

The bite of her nails gets Sean's attention, all right, and he jerks back hard, not quite loosening her grip on him but giving himself enough room to move. He slams himself down on top of her again, one hand grabbing the hair just at the top of her scalp, pinning her head to the floor, the other going between them so he can unbutton his jeans. He starts shoving a thigh between her legs, trying to work her legs apart with a combination of squirming and body weight. "Enough," he breathes. "That's enough fucking around."

"Is it?" she growls back at him. "Then get the fuck away from me." She pulls hard, but his hand is tight in her hair -- _oh fucking God this is good_ \-- and her head is not going anywhere right now.

"We're not through," Sean says. He gives her head one more rough shake and then lets her head go; it takes a hand on the floor to balance himself while he pulls out a condom.

Waiting until he's concentrating on getting the condom out, Carrie-Anne seizes her moment and turns a little, aided by the slippery silk of her underwear and stockings. Leaving her jacket and shirt behind, she manages to get her hips out from under his, trying to crawl away from him.

She gets a few paces away before Sean can untangle himself from her shirt and jacket. For a brief moment, he has to pause to admire the look of black lace and burgundy silk against pale skin -- _good holy Christ, she's lovely_ \-- and the fact that he's not just allowed but fucking _expected_ to tackle her into the floor is heaven on earth. He doesn't waste any more time; he simply tackles her into the floor, the whole length of his body spread across hers.

Unable to help a totally inelegant grunt, Carrie-Anne struggles on even after he's brought her down again. "Get the fuck ... off me," she gasps breathlessly, trying unsuccessfully to bring her elbow back for another jab at his ribs. He's heavy and she finally has to admit that she's not going anywhere. Not that that admission keeps her from squirming under him.

He finally has her exactly where he wants her, and it only takes one rough yank to get the silk ripped off her. He brings the condom up to his mouth and tears that open, too, and then levers himself back so he can slick it over his cock. His eyes close for a moment -- _fuck, yes_ \-- and then he's lying on top of her, guiding his cock between her legs and sliding inside her, his mouth pressed to the back of her neck, teeth coming down hard against her skin.

"Oh God ... no ... don't," Carrie-Anne begs as he moves into her. "Please ... don't do this...." It's hard to beg like this, hard to remain still and cowed, when what she really wants to do is spread her legs, arch her hips back and let him do her as hard as he can.

"Shut the fuck up," Sean growls. The warmth of his breath against her skin is nearly searing both of them, and he can feel the vibration of his voice in his chest as he presses her down to the floor. "Begging doesn't matter." He gives her a rough thrust and groans, needing to pant out a few breaths before he can go on talking. "What you _want_ doesn't matter. I'm fucking taking you."

Carrie-Anne manages to make her moan come across as a sound of protest, but the truth is that she's just this close to an orgasm. It's not just the hard pounding of his cock in her, or the strength with which he holds her down or even the words he's saying, although all of that helps. It's that she's nothing to him but something he wanted and took, just someone for him to fuck. It's not the submissive space reserved for Liam or Jason but a place where her enthusiasm or lack thereof for this act simply doesn't matter.

And Sean is completely immersed in the flip side of that feeling -- the sensation that he's taking what he wants, that there's no need to second-guess or double-check to see that she's getting what she wants from him. Maybe it's the complete selfishness of being able to take her this way; maybe it's the feeling of power, of being in such complete control. Maybe it's the illusion of all the safeties being off. He could break her, hurt her, make her bleed, and every instant of pain she'd be taking would be there because he gave it to her, because he _needed_ to give it to her.

Sean's vision greys out entirely as he growls against her neck, and he comes, his last few strokes taking him in so deep it must be painful. He doesn't care. She's there for him, for what he wants, and that's all that matters. And he wants it hard enough for her to feel it in the morning.

"Oh God," Carrie-Anne yells, finally unable to keep up the pretense that she doesn't like this. He's deep inside and she's angled her hips subtly so he can go deeper and his final thrusts hurt --_so fucking much it's almost like being torn apart and oh God it's so fucking good_ \--and that's all it takes. She screams again when she comes, all of the left over fury and anger and need emerging at once.

And then she goes boneless under Sean, comforted beyond expectation by the feeling of his weight pressing her down. "Oh God," she says again, this time softly. "Oh God."

The feeling of comfort passes into Sean, too, and he stays pressed up against Carrie-Anne to rest and recover, just breathing against her skin. "God," he whispers, echoing her sentiments. "That was... _mmm._" He nuzzles against the back of her neck. "Lovely."

It takes being truly relaxed to realize just how much tension you've been carrying, and Carrie-Anne's relaxation is almost total right now. "Mmmmm, indeed," she murmurs. "it was ... perfect, just perfect."

"This is where I wanted to get," Sean whispers. He chuckles, thinking about where he is, _physically_, right now, and climbs off her, then wraps her back up in his arms. "Well, you know what I mean..." He closes his eyes and holds her tight. "This is what I'd been looking for."

"I'm glad," she replies, snuggling into his arms. "It took me someplace I didn't know I needed to go." She twists in his arms a little, only now registering the aches and pains of sore muscles and rug burn. Leaning forward to kiss him, she says softly, '"thank you."

Sean can't help laughing at that. _Sometimes it feels strange to be thanked for something so pleasant,_ he remembers hearing once, and whispers the words back to her: "Thank you."

"So it helped?" she asks after a moment.

"It did," Sean murmurs. "Very much."

"Oh good," she replies. She shivers a little but rather than leave his embrace, she simply reaches back a little and pulls the top blanket off the bed. "I'm gonna ache like hell tomorrow and you are so going to pay," she says as she pulls the blanket over both of them, her fond smile completely at odds with her words.

"I can't wait," Sean smiles. He settles into her, giving and taking comfort all at once. This is better than he's felt all week, and he's got it in the back of his mind to send one hell of a thank-you note... just as soon as he can move again.

_-tbc-_

Continue on to the sequel, [Tough On You 2](http://archiveofourown.org/works/44799).

**Author's Note:**

> This and its sequel are set in the universe of The Establishment, an RPG set in and around a secret kinky sex club. For more of Est!Sean, check out [Just Might Find](http://archiveofourown.org/series/1728) and [Train Wreck.](http://archiveofourown.org/series/1789)


End file.
